(A/N): This is one of the first 'psychic drabble' chapters in here. Note chapters. I would consider the prologue and epilogue to be psychic drabbles as well. So, if you like the ones with more action and dialogue, you're going to have to be a bit disappointed.
If you like to see hints of my in-depth character analyses, however (I have done VERY in-depth for the whole book and movie and connections I find...), this chapter will please you.
CHAPTER THREE: FEAR AND LONELINESS
I could not tell him. He didn't know and experience the horror, the pain, the strangeness. He didn't experience the joy and the sadness.
He didn't see three dead children in a closet, and know that they were ghosts, and that they had a sad existence, and that they had been trapped and killed and turned to nothing.
He didn't go to the world with no sun.
He couldn't, wouldn't, and shouldn't understand.
Because he didn't know her love. He didn't know her hate. He didn't know her.
But I had to tell him.
So I made it simple.
"Fear and loneliness," I said. It was the truth, in the purest form; she was not something to be feared.
But her creation was. Her power could create beauty... and evil. I shivered again.
Charles stared off through the window, across the street. It seemed like he was focused on a transmission from the future, or the past; he was receiving signals that I could not hear.
I probably didn't want to hear them, either.
"Should I trust you."
It was not a question. He was waiting for me to answer.
After a lot of thinking, I knew.
"I could tell you more, if I knew you better. But what I said was the absolute truth."
There was another pause; this one was longer than before. Then, finally, Charles pulled out a pen, and took a napkin from the table. He wrote something down on the napkin. His handwriting was a bit messy.
"My phone number and address. Call me up if you want to tell me something. And if you'll be of any use to us, I'll call you. But you'll have to call me first," Charles said jokingly. I smiled a small smile. He was very kind.
"Thank you. I'll call soon," I said, and left the coffee shop. I looked back and found him and laughing to himself as he picked up my copy of the New York Times.
(A/N): Sorry for this short little chapter! All of the chapters pretty much are less than 1000 words from here on out. I think this is the shortest...
